


Obedience Training

by dateburykill (nickelodeonguts)



Series: BTD Bites [3]
Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Edgeplay, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, NSFW, Tentacle Sex, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-05-19 01:51:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19347124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nickelodeonguts/pseuds/dateburykill
Summary: Something Strade learns is it’s more dangerous for Rire to love you. Strire.





	Obedience Training

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Conspiracy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Conspiracy/gifts).



“Now, come on,” Rire said. “Don’t give up here. I know you don’t play like that.”

Strade mewled, his mouth occupied by a slithery tentacle. He was stripped bare and suspended in the air by a diadem of black tentacles. They possessed every part of him, working both orifices and tickling the especially sensitive parts of his body. Strade was hard against the rubberlike filament, bucking his hips whenever he was close only to be let go. His eyes were wide and red from crying.

“I thought you were a vicious little German,” Rire teased.

Strade thrashed for a lightning-quick minute, but two barbels erupted from Rire’s back and restrained his limbs. Another slick, black tendril penetrated him, this time hot and dripping with ichor. Strade screamed, but the tentacle in his mouth widened and gagged him as the two tentacles pumped and stretched him gracelessly.

“It’s always flattering to know that even the strongest man can be made into someone’s bitch.”

Rire set Strade down, forcing him onto his knees. One tentacle left Strade’s mouth, but two more snakes slunk in between him, grazing his inner thighs. These two were cold and slick, wiping away the sweat and spreading his legs apart further. The makeshift lube dripped from Strade as though it were another crude liquid.

“Down,” Rire commanded.

Strade gnashed his teeth and barked at him,  _“Ich werde dich umbringen!”_

The tentacles grew and forced themselves further into Strade. He cried out, cursing in his native language.

“ _Down_.”

Strade shook as he leaned into his hands and got on all fours. He refused to look up as tears leaked from his eyes.

“I know you like to play rough. I’m just returning the favor.”

Strade said nothing. He held himself in place as Rire’s appendages rocked him mercilessly.

“Had enough?”

Strade nodded, gasping.

“Would you much rather let me play with you?”

Strade nodded again, tears dripping from his chin. The pace abated, but the ichor seared Strade’s insides.

“Beg for it, dog.”

_“Jetzt!”_

Something sharp pierced the walls of Strade’s body, and he choked on an abrupt balloon of air.

“That’s not begging,” Rire reproached. “That’s demanding.”

“Fuck me,” Strade said, shivering.

“What was that?” Rire let one of the tentacles between Strade’s legs caress him, reaffirming his reactions to the most minute touch.

Strade pulled himself up and clung to Rire’s pants. He buried his face in Rire’s crotch, rubbing his nose against him and sniffing him desperately. His hands groped his legs, attempting to grab more before Rire removed his touch from the equation.

“Such an eager little puppy,” Rire said, admiring Strade’s obedience. “How could I ever refuse those eyes?”

Rire unzipped his fly and held himself with one hand, tapping Strade’s lips. Strade leaned in several times, but only gulped down lungfuls like a fish on land. Rire chuckled as he teased him, stopping to let Strade get a taste. It was then that Rire held onto Strade’s hair and jerked forward. Rire laughed darkly, enjoying the wet, luxurious velvet of Strade’s throat. Strade only complied because the tentacles slid out of him one by one.

Rire felt something warmer surround him, and as he pulled out, Strade swallowed the puddle of sick that rested on his tongue.

“Good dog,” Rire said, sitting down on Strade’s couch. “Now, get up here and prove to me your worth.”

Strade winced as he got up, but nonetheless, he walked towards Rire and situated himself in his lap. Rire laid back and watched as Strade worked himself on top of him. Blood and ichor leaked from Strade, but it made for a sufficient lubricant; he thought of his victims and how he’d use their blood for such venereal pleasures, and it was enough to get him into the rhythm.

Rire’s fingers walked across his legs and trailed over his inner thighs. Strade was overcome with manic compulsion, moving faster against him and shuddering as he felt himself tear. He practically begged Rire to touch him, and only after Rire slammed into him several times did he consider. Strade reciprocated the movements while Rire soothed the skin between Strade’s legs. Strade’s eyes widened as he felt something warm mingle with burning sensations inside of him, and Rire pushed Strade to the ground before he could spill onto his shirt and caveat.

Strade convulsed on the floor, feeling the remnants drip from him like dregs from a bottle. Rire cleaned himself with a Kleenex and zipped himself up. As he stood, he ground his shoe into Strade’s limp dick, watching him grimace.

“You’re an interesting little dog,” Rire said. “And I definitely plan on seeing you again soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of five(?) planned one-shots for stradesfox! He posted several sexual headcanons about Strade, and I told him in March that I would write fics based off of them! This one is primarily based on his headcanon that if you edge Strade, he’d probably break down crying. This ties into other HCs, too (him talking in German when riled up and his inner thighs being especially sensitive), but that was the main one. I also have a Strire headcanon that Rire calls Strade a dog a lot.
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, and I’ll be at it with another Strire fic in the future!


End file.
